


Changes

by Ladyele12



Category: The Get Down, The Get Down (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10604262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyele12/pseuds/Ladyele12
Summary: So many things have changed. Yet you have remained the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So it's my first time posting here. The Get Down is my new obsession so I decided to take a chance at writing for it. I just love the relationships, platonically and romantically, between the characters. The relationships are so intense and amazing to watch grow, fall, grow, and fall again. So, as you can probably tell by the tagging, I'm not actually revealing who the couplings in this fic will be. They give you an iidea though! Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this. Just the first chapter of a mini fic I'm whipping up.

Shaolin was my heart 

"Can you turn that fucking shit off," Shaolin shouted through loud music playing. He had come out of his office to be faced with a blast from the past. 

"Shao." Napoleon said. Exasperation was laced through his words as he followed Shaolin to the DJ booth. Two bouncers following close behind them.

Shaolin purposefully made his way to the booth. He ignored Napoleon's calls and looked straight at his target. The DJ was consumed in his spinning that he didn't realize Shao was coming up until it was too late.

Shao snatched him from the booth. His hand fisting in the jacket of the DJ’s. He didn’t even care about the music stopping or the protests of people. It was his fucking club and whatever he did was what he did. 

“Napoleon take over,” Shao snapped at Napoleon. Napoleon gave him an exasperated look but stayed quiet. 

“What a fucking waste of money,” growled Shaolin as he dragged the DJ to the area behind the DJ booth. Shao slammed the DJ against the wall. The two bouncers coming up behind him.

“Hey man. What the fuck,” said the DJ looking wild eyed. He tried to get out of Shao’s grip but Shaojust tightened it.

“What the fuck did I say about playing that damn song in this fucking club,” snarled Shao.

“It’s just a song,” the DJ snarled trying to get out Shao’s grip but failing.

Shao gave a laugh.

“Just a song. Oh it’s just a song” replied Shao with a snort. He looked back at the guards. “Fellas he said it’s just a song. It’s just a song,” He felt the Dj seem to relax in his grip. He turned back to the guy. “Just a song huh?” he said with a fake smile. The guy slowly nodded. Shao laughed again before landing a punch in the man’s stomach. The guy went down.

“Well how’s that for it’s just a punch nigga,” Shao yelled as he landed a kick in the man’s stomach. He turned back towards the bouncers behind him. “Get this nigga out of here,” 

The bouncers nodded and walked passed him. Shaolin fixed his jacket and mentally breathed and counted to center himself. Sometimes Dizzee’s weird ass methods worked. 

“Don’t you think that was excessive,” called out a voice.

“Think of the Devil and he will appear,” Shaolin breathed out feeling calmer. He glanced over to where Dizzee stepped out of the neon lights of the club and behind the DJ booth. 

“Hmm. I prefer the term Alien. It’s more realistic. The Devil can be considered a state of mind or mood. Which is subjective to those who view it,” Dizzee started in an airy tone.. The far out look settling in his face as if he was high. 

“You're such a fucking weirdo,” Shaolin retorted. Dizzee just smiled and came up to hug him. Dizzee greeted in hugs. Something about close body contact and energy was his reasoning. It was something that Shaolin had to grown used to as the years passed on.

“I've missed you,” Dizzee whispered in his ear as he hugged him. 

Over the years, Dizzee was the only one from back in the day that he still kept in contact with. Hell, Dizzee was the main contributor to the design of his nightclub in Manhattan. 

After Fat Annie died and Cadillac went ghost to do his label thing, Shao was left with everything Fat Annie left. Of course, it wasn’t in the legal sense. But, apparently, Fat Annie had pretty much made it known to her partners that Shaolin was basically her successor. While this afforded Shaolin certain luxuries, it still didn’t give him a way out of the drug game. He had done his best and minimized most of the connections Fat Annie previously had with her drug partners. 

The Feds cracking down on drug distribution did help though. Fucked up in terms of all the people going to jail for extensive periods of time but it did help Shaolin end some partnerships quicker than others. When Fat Annie died, the Feds had actually cut Shaolin a deal if he revealed who Fat Annie’s partners were. However, Shaolin wasn’t stupid. If it had gotten out that he ratted on everybody, his body would be flooding in the hudson river. So, he only gave the name of the smaller connects Fat Annie had. Smaller connects that were actually considered a nuisance to some of Fat Annie’s bigger connects but big enough so that the feds would think they caught a big catch. Also, Shaolin got immunity out of it. Amazing what a newbie fed would give to become big man in the office.So if they ever tried to take him out in some trumped up charges, they wouldn't be able to take him out.

Of course that didn’t put an exact end to his connections with drugs. His brand was still in connected to some of Fat Annie’s larger connects. However, he usually stayed out of it and focused on the night club scene. He kept someone in charge of that area and only poked in when needed. He was still from the streets and did what he had to do.

“Same here my alien brother,” Shaolin replied. He pulled back with a smile. An air of familiarity setting between them. At first, Shaolin wasn't fond of this familiarity. Before everything went down, him and Dixie weren't that close. However, after everything went down, Dizzee was the only one who kept in contact with him. His hippie, love everyone, peace is the answer attitude wasn't one that really connected well with Shaolin’s street senses. However, time and circumstances will change things. Needing someone in his corner or partly in his corner changed things.

“So.What's up? Weren't expecting you to be up here,” Shaolin said taking out a joint and lighting it. He took a drag of it. Inhaling the smoke and letting it relax him. He walked over to where Dizzee was and leaned on the wall Dizzee was leaning against. Facing him, he held out the joint, and continued. “Thought you were with blondie boy touring the country. Some shit about peace from the nature,”

“How nature affects your inner peace,” Dizzee replied. Taking the joint out of Dizzee’s hand and taking a hit. He tilted his head against the wall. “I got so many ideas for my canvases. It was wild,” he finished with a lazy smile.

“I bet,” Shaolin remarked with a smirk. Innuendo laced in his tone. Dizzee just smiled in response and took another hit.

They stood in comfortable silence. Letting the high and music relax them. Silently passing the joint back and forth. As Shao passed it over to Dizzee. Dizzee shifted. Shaolin raised his eyebrow In question. While Dizzee was artsy and out there, he wasn't someone who moved a lot. He was antsy. Which meant he was about drop something that Shaolin wasn't going to like.

“So…” Dizzee started off slowly. “I met with Ra.”

Whatever mood the two of them has was instantly broken.

“No,” Shaolin said lowly but deadly. His mood switching from one of ease to tense. Motherfuckers always had to wreck his damn day.

“Shao.” started Dizzee.

“Don't Shao bullshit me man,” Shaolin snapped. He began pacing in anger. “You come in my motherfucking club to ask me about those fuckers,”

“I didn't even ask a question,” Dizzee said calmly. He took another drag of the joint like Shao didn't look like he was ready to punch something.

“I don't need you to fucking ask for me to know. Ra has some damn nerve sending you here. Motherfuker ain't talked to me in 5 years. 5 motherfucking years” Shao shouted. “And he want favors. Fuck that shit,” He was going to end the statement with a punch through the wall. However, his punch was stopped. 

“Shaolin. Your breathing exercises,” Dizzee said who was now in between Shaolin and the wall. Dizzee’s hand holding the punch that Shaolin was aimed at the wall. Dizzee still looked calm. However his eyes now held a degree of fire and intensity. A look of ‘I’d rather stay in peace but if I have to put your ass down, I will’

Shaolin’s punch fell and he pulled away. He turned around and mentally began to count. This was the only bullshit exercise that centered him. However, it didn’t stop the huffs and mutters of anger that he felt.

“Now. Are you going to let me explain or more shouting and attempted self harm?” asked Dizzee once Shaolin turned back around to him. He was still tense and pissed but slightly calmer. 

Shao rolled his eyes irritation. 

“Let’s get out of here,”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!!! Sorry for the late update but I'm a junior in college and I've beeen swamped with school work! However, finals are next week so I'm almost done! Yay! Anyway, here's chapter 2. Very Dizzee and Shaolin centric. ☺️

I need to get buzzed.” Shaolin said as he took a glass out of Dizzee’s cabinet. He had gone straight to the liquor and glasses when Dizzee let them inside his and Thor’s place. He needed something strong.

He and Dizzee had gone to Dizzee and Thor’s place in Greenwich Village. The gay part of Manhattan. Dizzee always corrected him by saying it was just a part of Manhattan. You didn't need to label what it was. However, to Shaolin this would always be the gay part of the Manhattan. Nothing wrong with it. It just is.

“Being dependent on drinking fucks with your centering,” Dizzee said moving around the living room-well more paint studio with all the different paints scattered around. A paintbrush in his hand and one behind his ear a half finished a half finished canvas against the wall.

Shaolin took a sip of his liquor and swallowed in delight. The kick of it always relaxed him. 

“Well aren’t I fucked then,” replied Shaolin. He wasn’t in the mood for Dizzee’s commentary on centering and auroras.

Dizzee hummed in response. His attention on one particular spot on his canvas. 

“So. Where’s blondie?” Shaolin asked as he took his drink and moved over to where Dizzee was critically examining this spot on the canvas.

“Stayed in California,” Dizzee replied. Moving away from the canvas and to a wooden table that had paints and brushes scattered across it. He picked up a fuchsia color and began circling in small circles in the spot he had been examining. Shaolin thought that it was weird color choice since near that spot had a lot of yellow. However, he wasn’t the artist which is something Dizzee would have voiced if he questioned him.

“For what?” 

“Helping Mylene with one of her photo design sets. She wanted something quirky and Thor had some ideas that she liked,” Dizzee replied. Eyes never leaving his work. However, still attentive to Shaolin.

Shaolin stayed quiet. Even though he hadn't seen Mylene in about a year, he still wasn’t fond of her. She was still an presuming uppity bitch. However, she was okay when she was drunk. He actually liked her better when drunk. So did she. Drunk Mylene and Shaolin were cool. Conscious and coherent Mylene and Shaolin weren't. He was still a smartass and she was still a bitch. A bitch he could stand if she wasn't drunk.

They stayed in silence after. Shaolin lying on the couch,the only piece of furniture in the living room-turned studio, and Dizzee painting his canvas. The strokes of Dizzee’s brush and soft hums filling the air. Shaolin had his eyes closed as he enjoyed the peace of nothing. Also, he was slightly buzzed so it helped with his thoughts. He usually didn't like quiet. He was left to his own thoughts. Some thoughts that he didn't want to deal with. So while he was a loner, he always was around something with noise. That's why he was always at one of his clubs. Usually locked up in his office. But the full sound of the pounding music distracted him. 

“Shaolin,” 

Dizzee’s voice breaking the silence.

“What?” 

“Come paint,” Dizzee said. His back still turned to Shaolin.

“No.” he replied. Painting equaled its time to talk. Dizzee had this weird thing about wanting to have deep and fucking meaningful conversations while painting. He already knew what conversation Dizzee wanted.

“We are going to have this conversation regardless of what you want,” Dizzee said. A bit of irritation coming into his voice. “We might as well have it while we’re at peace,”

“Painting doesn't bring me peace,” Shao replied. Still not moving from where he was perched. 

“It used to.” answered Dizzee.

“A lot of things used to and look where it fucking got me,” Shaolin grumbled. He could almost feel Dizzee roll his eyes in response. 

An audible sigh filled the room before steps came towards him. Shao kept his eyes closed and turned his head to face the back of the couch. He wasn't interested in whatever he was going to say.

He should have been worried what Dizzee was going to do. 

When Shao felt a weight on him, he immediately opened his eyes and bucked up. 

“The fuck,” yelled Shaolin as he tried to move to get Dizzee off of him. However, Dizzee’s thighs had a strong grip on his legs. Motherfucker was strong for his built. It also didn't help that Shaolin’s drink had buzzed him a bit to much. “Get the fuck off Dizz”

“No,” Dizzee said calmly. Talking like he wasn't holding Shaolin down. His arms holding down Just locking his grip on him harder. “You're going to at least listen to what I have to say before you answer. Also, stop pouting,”

“I'm not fucking pouting,” grumbled Shaolin but stopped his movement. “Can you get the fuck off me,”  
Dizzee let go of Shao’s upper body but still stayed perched on his upper legs.

“No,” Dizzee answered. Looking away from Shao. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his paint. “Now you're going to be quiet and let me talk,” His tone change from light to assertive.

Shaolin glared up at him but remained silent. He always forgot that Dizzee was actually the oldest of the Kipplings so he could get very assertive and bossy when needed. No one bossed Shaolin Morherfucking Fntastic around. However, after 5 years of Dizzee, he had unconsciously allowed Dizzee that right.

“Now,” Dizzee began turning back around to him looking quite satisfied with himself. A dish of paints in one hand and another small paint brush in an other. 

“What the fuck are doing with that,” interrupted Shaolin warrily. 

“Art,” Dizzee replied easily as he dipped his brush in a gold color. “Your face shape is similar to one of my clients I have next week. Perfect practice model. Might as well kill two birds with one stone,” 

“Fuck this shit and you,” grumbled Shaolin but remained still at the cold touch of paint. 

If this was Shaolin 5 years ago, hell even four years ago, Dizzee would have had his artsy, the universe and peace are entwined, peace loving ass handed to him. However, this wasn't four years ago. This was now. A lot of fucking shit happened in those years. A lot of fucking shit. There was a point in time where Shaolin felt like he had nothing. A point he hadn't felt since his parents died and he was put in fucking foster care. The things he could depend on such as the music, the art, the martial arts, the people...It wasn't there. It had no meaning. His universe didn't have meaning so he went back to what he was used to. His darkness which he was perfectly fine with. It didn't hurt him. It was fucking constant.

However, the annoying nigga who was now perched on him wouldn't let him stay in his fucking darkness. No matter the anger of words or hands that were thrown his way, they never deterred Dizzee. Dizzee proved that he was a real nigga who actually cared. So, yeah, if Shaolin allowed Dizzee to get away with certain things, the nigga earned them. Wasn't a walk in the park dealing with an angry Shaolin who knew how to use words and actions to keep people away. 

The artsy nigga earned his right to get away with certain things with Shao. Not everything but a few. He drawled the line at nail polish. Nail polish and those weird ass gay clubs Dizze and Thor had a habit of going to. But being a practice model for whatever weird ass shit Dizzee did to pay bills, wasn't that bad.

“Now,” Dizze said. A dazed smile appearing on his face as he began painting Shao’s face. Shaolin never understood how Dizzee could have his artsy zone out but still be focused on talking with someone else. “As I was saying before before you blew yo back at the club, I talked to Ra a few days ago?”

“And?”

“And...Everyone will be back in town,” Dizzee continued as he changed the color gold to red. “Mylene and the soul Madonnas have promotions to do here in New York. Ra got some time off of work, Boo Boo will already be at the club, and then Ze-”

“What the fuck does this have to do with me?” Shaolin interrupted. If they were going to have this conversation, he was going to make it as quick as possible.

“Well Mylene and the Soul Madonnas need a place to promote for their new album. The club they had canceled on them last minute-” 

“No,” Shaolin interrupted. “Why the hell should I let the uppity bitch and her bitch brocade come into my fucking club?”

“Because it'll make you money,” Dizzee replied in duh voice. He lent up to examine Shaolin’s face. “Think about it. No matter what you think of them, they release good music and are popular. Especially here in their hometown. Promote that they'll be coming and your club will be packed,”

“It's always packed,” Shaolin replied with a roll of his eyes. 

Dizzee ignored his statement and continued.

“Plus think about it. It'll be like a reunion,” Dizzee said as a small smile appeared on his face. “Everyone will be there…” he trailed off.

“I don't give damn about a fucking reunion,” Shaolin interrupted again. This time he sat up on his  
Elbows. He was getting tired of this conversation. Apparently he didn't drink enough because his emotions were starting to rile up and he didn't like it. “However, I do care about money. The prissy dolls can come but let's lay down some rules,”

Dizzee arched his eyebrow but remained quiet.

“First this isn't a fucking reunion,” started Shaolin. “I could give a damn about what those fucksrs are up to outside of you and Boo. Second the prissy dolls can come but it's the same rate I'd charge everybody. Their asses don't get any special price. Third, I'm not interested in talking to any of them. They stay on their side if the club, I'll stay in my office. None of that fraternizing, kumbaya shit. Got it,”

“Got it,” Dizzee replied with satisfaction seeping through his voice. A small knowing smirk in place. It was irritating Shaolin. Nothing seemed to faze this nigga.

“What the fuck are you smiling for?” Shaolin snapped. Dizzee just continued smile and shook his head.

“Is it crime?” Dizzee replied detailing the left side of Shaolin’s face. Shaolin just glared in response. This time Dizzee laughed.

“Stop pouting. You know your tough man persona doesn't work on me?” Dizzee said leaning up and putting down his paints. 

“Fuck you?” Shaolin replied.

“Maybe after dinner,” Dizzee replied smoothly as he gracefully got off of Shaolin. 

A squeak came out of a blushing Shaolin but he remained quiet. Dizzee smirked at him before turning around and heading back to his canvas.

“Oldest of four,” Dizzee muttered to himself. “I always win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this! I'm kind of obsessed with this Shaolin and Dizzee dynamic. I just think it's interesting to explore. Anyway, hope you guys liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> So...Yeah. The scene in season two of the Get Down where Shao picks up Dizzee from Thor's made me intrigued in Shaolin and Dizzee's relationship. I hadn't really paid notice of their few scenes together but this one really hit me. I loved that scene so much. It was so simple yet powerful. Anyway,Did you all like it? Should I continue? Let me in the comments! Thanks for reading.


End file.
